


Loyaulte Me Lie

by Rose_of_Pollux



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 19:05:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10973475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which Illya finds himself having to stick up for Napoleon in the face of old acquaintances. Takes place at some point after “The Neptune Affair”





	Loyaulte Me Lie

Both Napoleon and Illya had reputations for being difficult patients when afflicted with illness or injuries they obtained during the course of missions. And so, when they weren’t being difficult, that was when it was apparent to everyone that they were worse off than previously thought.

And that was why Illya was worried sick when, as they struggled to hide from THRUSH in one of the many wooded areas of his homeland, Illya was struggling to keep his partner awake.

They had been fleeing from THRUSH in a helicopter hours ago, with Napoleon starting to come down with something. Before Illya could determine what was afflicting his partner, THRUSH had shot them down. They had survived the crash, but Napoleon’s illness had gotten much worse, and his fevered chills were made worse by the coldness of the Russian night. He couldn’t go on.

“‘m sorry…” he murmured, as Illya gently wiped Napoleon’s forehead with a pale yellow cloth he had soaked in cold water.

“You have nothing to apologize for, _Dorogoy_ ,” Illya whispered back. “But you must survive, or else I will never forgive you.”

“I feel… so cold…”

“But you are burning up with fever,” Illya said, trying to wrap him in the one blanket they had.

“Is… THRUSH… still after us…?”

“I don’t know,” Illya admitted. “Probably. They are persistent.”

Napoleon blinked, trying to think through the haze he was feeling.

“You… should run…”

“And leave you?” Illya asked, stunned.

“I can’t run. I don’t even think… I can walk…” Napoleon confessed. He tried to get up, but wore himself out just from that; he slumped against Illya with a groan.

“Oh, Napoleon…” Illya began, but he trailed off as he heard footsteps approaching them. He held Napoleon close with one arm and held his Special at the ready with his other hand. “Stay back!”

To his amazement, a familiar voice responded instead.

“Kuryakin!?”

Illya blinked, lowering his weapon slightly.

“Dubov!?”

A familiar figure in a Soviet Navy uniform emerged from the trees, flanked by a few more men. Illya had worked with Dubov many times during his time in Naval Intelligence; though Dubov had never been as close to him as Napoleon now was, he was, nevertheless, a friendly face, and one that Illya was relieved to see now.

“ _We saw the helicopter get shot down_ ,” Dubov said, in Russian. “ _Naturally, we had to investigate—but I never once expected to see you! We had not heard from you since you started working for this U.N.C.L.E.!_ ”

“ _My work with U.N.C.L.E. has left me very busy_ ,” Illya said. “ _But this can wait; we are being pursued by THRUSH. Can you arrange transport for us?_ ”

Dubov glanced at Napoleon, who was glancing at him weakly.

“ _American_?” he asked. “ _Kuryakin, you know we deal with Intelligence; we cannot have him on our vessel_.”

“ _I can vouch for his integrity—he is in no shape to be spying, anyway_!” Illya retorted.

“ _The protocol is very clear, old friend—he is not with our Intelligence, therefore, he cannot be on board our vessel. We can send for another vessel to take him; that will be permitted. You come with us, Kuryakin_.”

“ _What_!?”

“ _You are one of the four who know our launch codes; you are to be protected_ ,” Dubov said, as though stating the obvious.

Illya glanced down at his partner, shivering in his arms. Being situated in New York, Napoleon had burned bridges from his past when old acquaintances had essentially forced Napoleon to choose between Illya and them.

Illya would return the favor.

“ _I cannot leave him_ ,” Illya said. “ _You call for another vessel; I will be here with my partner_.”

“But if THRUSH gets you--!”

“ _Napoleon refused to abandon me to THRUSH during the times they have been after me; I will be dead before I abandon him! Our homeland owes much to him—it was he who prevented the extermination of our wheat crop last year_!”

He hugged Napoleon closer to him, protectively, silently daring Dubov to try and challenge him.

Another one of the soldiers glanced at Napoleon, shining a flashlight in his face; Napoleon winced.

“ _He is very weak—too weak to remain here waiting for another vessel_ ,” the solider said. “ _Lt. Dubov, perhaps if we blindfold him and keep him someplace where he would not come into contact with our sensitive information_ …”

“ _I will be with him at all times_ ,” Illya said.

Dubov exhaled.

“ _Very well; Kuryakin, you will take him directly to the store-room, and one of my men will be with you at all times, as well_.”

“ _Thank you, Dubov_.”

“ _Your U.N.C.L.E. partner_ ,” Dubov said, glancing at Napoleon. “ _I hope he realizes how fortunate he is to have earned your loyalty so fiercely_.”

“ _As am I to have earned his_ ,” Illya responded.

Dubov shrugged and led the way, still amazed by the change in Illya he was seeing, for he was no longer the distrusting loner that he had worked with.

And as Illya carried Napoleon back, it was clear to him that the time had come to resign his commission from the Soviet Navy—as soon as the launch codes were changed, and that he was no longer one of the ones who knew the code. That had been his agreement upon starting his work with U.N.C.L.E.—that U.N.C.L.E. agents belonged to the world, and strove for maintaining peace, and that he would have to resign from the Navy if the world needed him more. There would be disappointment from his naval superiors, but they had, no doubt, begun to see the writing on the wall in 1960 when Illya’s transfer to New York had been made permanent. 

Illya had taken that launch code assignment at a time when he’d had no one else in his life—and nothing to lose. What he had now was precious, and he could not—and would not-- lose it.

And as Napoleon recovered under Illya’s tender care, he, too, knew that he had found something very precious in his partner—and that the trust he had placed in him was a very well-placed trust, indeed.


End file.
